What sets off your creativity?

LOL I can't think what doesn't set off my creativity, even our loo roll centres get used as planters for seeds, toys for the animals, eventually fodder for the compost and nutrients for next years growth. Some of my poetry about creativity -

A Leap of Faith.

 

She sits upon my shoulder, nudges me
goads me into action, I know
I missed the boat called perfection,
but my errors are portals of discovery
and there are times when a little madness

sets me free to write. I close my eyes
delve into the secret, the mystical,
my eyes those of a child, wide with wonder
conceive a world of fantasy.
If mystery be solved, and awe is lost to me
then I am dead.

I live, and love to write of nature, wonder
at her ever changing face, my poems
may not do mother nature justice, though
they are imperfect, each one newborn
and loved long before it exists, my joy

simply to begin. I love to write about
the universal. I ask what can I create
for a creator who builds forests from a tiny acorn,
holds stars and planets in the wonder of the cosmos ?
Creation has my love, and my adoration
dancing in the palm of her hand

She hands me ideas, slippery things, little scraps
I catch on paper, lest they escape and elude me.
My curiosity peers into the future, there lies my muse
She knows I must be who I am, she asks me to leap
and a net appears.

The brilliance of creativity.

I am a meteorite, no, don't laugh, I know

this sounds trite. I hurtle through life

outside the norm, hurled along by forces

beyond the confines of this earth impelled

by a sixth sense, I am led by feelings

that are so intense. Faces in deep shadow

expose new aspects, so I examine all facets.

ignore truth and I'd become a sham,

and yet to follow faces in deep shadow

would seem folly in the extreme. When vision

comes, as in a dream, I have learned through

life's haze, they lead me on a path to stargaze..

The Book of Life

Natures copier machines merge...emerge
unique, our book of life,  the human genome
dances to nature's tempo; is formed
from substance that exists since primeval time

it  flows on...to infinity  We spring to life, grow 
strong, bear ripe fruit, and seed develops
into bright exotic flowers,some tangled weeds.
Each generation a new abundant harvest.

Life evolves, rolls on,to bring the harvest-home,
succulent fruit, each kernel, or seed, a cradle
of tomorrows dreams.Intuitive fantasy, creates
new reality offers a future that burns bright

from the darkness of our past. On ego's death
we focus on a new reality;  no longer  separate,
we learn to co create a new reality, our world
is changed  forever into One perfect Unity.

A poet's garden

 

I walk a wilderness garden, plant seeds

of inspiration and renewal, tread the dark

rich soil of fertile imagination. In moments

of paroxysmal madness, return to source,

 

a temple, gripped by roots of ancient woodland

here I feel my way, ever expanding

intuition floods me in reddened waves,

I peer through vinacious mists of dawn,

drink tomorrow's sun

 

captured in each drop of morning dew that hangs

on natures tussie-mussie planting, I pick

a posie of words, on which each dew-drop

scintillates, I am a snake,

the sun's close bosom friend, eyes of a predator,

 

I uncurl, writhe in hunger for new language

to digest, slough off old skins

side-wind across a rainbow bridge that spans

uncharted land, here I transform,

in auditory form, become a wild exotic.